For most of the week, Jerusalem is really noisy. That’s one reason why I love Friday nights. It’s so quiet. Tonight, though, was an obvious exception. It started around sunset, with the deafening sound of air raid sirens. That lasted for less than a minute. Then, moments after the alarm stopped, we heard two distinct thuds in the distance—they were bombs that exploded about seven miles from our apartment.
After that, we heard the most disconcerting sound of all: Palestinians celebrating explosions that were happening in their own city. It was sobering reminder of how deep and bitter the division is within Jerusalem.
